


Top shelf

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 17:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Paul accidentally leaves something on the top shelf. Emma refuses to let her height stop her





	Top shelf

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt I saw ages ago but I actually took this out of my drafts so I’ve lost it !

“Ah shit,” Emma put her pen down on the table.   
“You okay?” Paul asked, tilting his head up from his laptop.  
“Yeah, just a paper cut,” she held the cut to her lips. “It doesn’t hurt that much but I got blood on my paper,” she sighed.   
“Do you want me to get the first-aid kit?”   
“It’s okay, I’ll grab it,” Emma held her finger to her mouth again as blood welled up in the cut.   
She walked over to the kitchen, opening up the cupboards in search of the first aid kit. “Hey Paul? Where is it?” She called out, squinting and shifting around boxes and containers on the shelves.   
“Uh, just where it usually is, isn’t it?”   
Emma looked for a second longer to confirm its absence. She checked the next shelf up but to no luck. “It’s not here.”   
“I’ll come find it for you.”   
“No, it’s okay. I’ll find it.” At this point her finger wasn’t even bleeding badly anymore, she was just invested in finding the first aid kit. She checked everywhere: the bathroom cupboard, the bottom kitchen draws and the bedroom nightstand but found no trace.   
She returned to the kitchen with a sigh, just about ready to wipe up the blood with a tissue and move on when she saw the red box on the very top shelf.   
Paul must’ve accidentally put it up there. She pulled out the step stool and reached up to grab it. “Wow, that’s...far,” her fingers didn’t even brush the edge of the top shelf.   
She marched back into the living room and picked up her chair.   
“What’re you doing?”   
“Nothing,” she said, carrying the chair back before he could question her further. She set it down in front of the cupboard and rested the step stool on top, crawling up and holding onto the shelves to keep her balance.   
“Paul!” She shouted out. “I found it! You left it on the top shelf!”  
“Shoot, sorry. I’ll come get it down for you,” he offered again.  
“I can deal with this, you have important work to do!”   
“My weekly reports aren’t that important,” Paul assured her. She could hear him moving about in the living room before he peered around the corner. His eyes widened when he saw her. “Okay I’m gonna stop you right there!” He warned, racing to her side and putting his hands around her waist incase she fell. “Just give me the stepstool, I’ll grab it.”   
“No sit back down, you’re doing your weekly reports, that’s important work. Don’t let me bother you.”   
“It’ll take me two seconds Emma, I don’t want you falling,” as if on cue, the step stool titled and she had to put both her hands on the shelves to steady herself.   
“Emma, get down before you hurt yourself.” Paul stretched up to grab the first-aid kit although Emma took it first, but she had to shift her weight to reach it. The stool shook and she lost her balance. She pulled the first aid kit close to her chest as the stool vanished beneath her feet.  
The air left her lungs as Paul swooped her up in his arms.   
“Careful!” Paul scolded, managing to keep her safe from harm. “You should just ask for help next time.”   
“Ugh,” Emma grunted, catching her breath. “You should just not put it on the top shelf next time,” she retorted. “I didn’t want to waste your time when you were working.”   
“It’s not a waste of my time, it would’ve taken about ten seconds, hun.”   
“Just don’t put things on the top shelf, please.”   
“I won’t.”  
“I’m going to start putting shit in bottom drawers just to fuck with you.”   
Paul put Emma down, pulling a box of bandaids out of the first-aid kit for her. “I’m sorry, don’t do that please,” he chuckled awkwardly. He gently put the bandaid on her finger, treating it like it was a much bigger wound than just a paper cut. “I don’t remember why I put it up there but if I ever do that again don’t do this stool trick.”   
“It would’ve been pretty cool if it worked though,” she tried to persuade him. “Plus I do that sort of shit all the time at work,” Emma examined Paul’s handiwork of her bandaid. “Zoey always thinks it looks cool.“   
“Oh yeah?”  
“Mm,” Emma and Paul paced back over to the living room, resuming their work. “I mean she’s tall enough to grab things on the top shelf herself so I mean she probably wants me to fall. That’s why I have to get good. So I don’t fall and she can never laugh.”   
“You don’t have to, Emma.”   
“Practice makes perfect.”


End file.
